


You And I

by pastelaliens



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelaliens/pseuds/pastelaliens
Summary: “How is it possible,” Lio grumbles, his voice muffled by the clothing piled high in his arms, “that you havethismuch laundry to do when I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you fully clothed?”His burden keeps him from turning to see the look on Galo’s face, but he can hear the grin in his voice, anyway. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for that?”





	You And I

“How is it possible,” Lio grumbles, his voice muffled by the clothing piled high in his arms, “that you have _this_ much laundry to do when I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you fully clothed?” 

His burden keeps him from turning to see the look on Galo’s face, but he can hear the grin in his voice, anyway. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for that?” Underneath his response is the sound of a basket filled to overflowing with clothes dragging across the floor behind him; what Lio holds is what didn’t fit. 

Lio takes a quiet moment to reflect and then shrugs as he turns to push open the swinging door to the laundry room with his back. “You have a good point, actually.” It’s not often he concedes one to Galo, but this time, he makes a fair argument. 

Finally, he can put down his heavy load, the muscles in his arms aching from carrying it down to the apartment building’s basement laundry. The place is vacant but for the two of them and Lio thinks, with some affection, that Galo chose this late hour for Lio’s benefit. He doesn’t have a fear of crowds or of people getting too close, exactly, but he feels he can breathe better when it’s just the two of them.

The clothing is dumped unceremoniously into one of the washers, and its submarine window rattles when Lio slams the door shut. “All right,” he says with a little sigh, just slightly out of breath from the trek, “now for the rest.” But when he reaches for the basket of clothes, Galo snatches it quickly away. Brow furrowing, Lio tries for it again— but Galo shoves it out of reach. “What’s the problem?” Lio snaps, and some time ago his eyes would have sparked to life with fire with the glare he’s levelling on Galo.

Galo’s standing protectively in front of his laundry, his expression scandalized. “You can’t just throw it all in there. You have to separate it.” 

Lio blinks once, slowly, his glare turning flat. “What.”

“You know— whites from the darks and colors and stuff. You have to separate the laundry if you want to keep your clothes nice.” Galo nudges Lio aside as he heads to the washer Lio already thought handled— but apparently not. Galo starts pulling pieces of clothing out one by one and throwing them into different washers while Lio stares on in disbelief.

“You mean to tell me,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “that you’re _this_ particular about laundry when the rest of your life is disorganized chaos?”

Lio doesn’t want to be charmed by the little huff that Galo lets escape but he is, anyway. “It might look like that to _you_, but not to me.” Galo stops and glances over his shoulder, once at the still full laundry basket and then, pointedly, at Lio. “Are you gonna help or what?”

It’s not complicated, this process, so Lio is a quick study and begins tossing the clothes into their respective washers. “It’s something to get used to,” Lio remarks as he works. “Before, if I ever had a washer to use, I just threw everything in to get it done as fast as possible. Usually we all just hand-washed our things.” 

Galo’s movements, practiced as they are, falter just a little. Perhaps he hadn’t thought of their different experiences with something so mundane as laundry. “Sure, that makes sense,” he says seriously. Lio’s a little sad to see his grin disappear. 

So he does what he can to remedy that. The next piece of laundry he picks up flies directly at Galo and lands squarely on his head, the sleeves of the shirt fluttering over his face. Between the folds of cloth, Lio sees that smile illuminate and his heart feels full with it. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Lio Fotia,” Galo says, pulling the shirt from on top of his head. 

Quickly, Lio scans his surroundings. Not a huge room— not a lot of space to run— but he has the advantage of smaller size and quicker speed. Rather than run away, he barrels straight toward Galo, grabbing a pile of clothes from the basket along the way— and then he promptly dumps those clothes right over Galo’s head, ducking under the arms outstretched to grab him and coming to a stop at Galo’s back. “Don’t make threats you can’t follow up on, Galo Thymos,” Lio returns playfully, a rare, impish grin on his lips. “Come and get me.”

The fire in Galo’s eyes as he turns to look at him is the prettiest inferno Lio’s ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> for cara! xo
> 
> find me on twit @paybackisawitch ♥


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